Lady Rogue (34 page)

Chapter Fifty

Dawn wandered like a wondering child through the streets she had thought never to see again, caressing every building, every tree, every turn in the road with her eyes.  She was
battered, tattered, and ragged but she was free!  True to their word, the fishermen had rowed her to shore without even so much as a blink at the  river police.  They had not turned her in.  Free!  Breathing in the misty cold  air she reveled in that knowledge.  For the moment it didn't matter that she had not even two shillings to rub together; at least she could come and go as she pleased without the threat of shackles or locked doors. 

Somewhere a clock chimed the hours.  Five o'clock.  The sounds of the costermongers and tradesmen hawking their wares from nearby market stalls was pleasant music to her ears, though a reminder of her return to poverty.  She had no money with which
to eat and it was nearing suppertime.   She had not had a bite to eat since the fishermen had shared their catch with her.  Oysters and a bit of turbot.  Her stomach rumbled its hunger.

"Chestnu
ts, all 'ot, a penny a score."

"Hot spiced gingerbread.  Buy me gingerbread!  Smo...o...oking hot.  If one'll warm you, wha-at'll a pound d
o?  Wha-a-a-t'll a pound do?"

"Mussels, a penny a quart!  Ni-ew macherel, six a shilling.  Had..had..hadd
ick, all fresh and good."

"Chestnu
ts, all 'ot, a penny a score!"

Dawn's bedra
ggled appearance drew wary looks from vendors.  Not even one "good day," came her way.  Still, heady with the thought of freedom, she scarcely noticed this lack of civility.   Life was what one made of it, she reflected.   Perhaps happiness  was not as elusive  as it had appeared to be a few days ago. She had been given another chance.  And somehow she would find a way to earn her keep.                              

"Shoes. New Shoes. Old shoes.  Pick'em out cheap 'ere
!  Three pair for a shilling."

"Laces.  Boot
laces.  Penny a lot!"

"Hats! Who'll buy a
bonnet for fourpence?  Hats!"

Of course!  The young woman peddling straw and ribboned creations was a reminder. Dawn would sell her hats again in
Rosemary Lane.  Taddie could help her.  "Before I met Margaret Pembrooke I did  quite well", she reflected aloud proudly.   "I'll sell hats to make my way."  It was a creative and an honest way to make a living.

Dawn hurried through t
he streets, anxious to find Taddie.  It would be her first visit to Soho in weeks.  Taddie, Jamie and the others were her only haven now, for she had no  other place  to go.  The thought of a warm bed, a bath and a bowl of stew caused her to hasten her steps.  Strange, she thought, how everything in life was relative to something else.  Once she had cursed her impoverished surroundings, comparing her life to those of the upper classes.  She had been full of dreams then. After the prison stench and deprivation, however,  the rooms in Soho seemed a luxury.

Perhaps I'll have time to warm some of the water for my bath
in the kettle
, she thought.   It would be good to wash away the river stink, to change into some clean clothing. Surely Taddie would have something she could wear. Even more important, Jamie, Farley and Taddie would lend her a sympathetic ear.              

Ahead of her the crowd was thinning,
returning to their homes before the sun sank below the horizon.  Dawn's eyes touched upon the familiar landmarks--the sign of the Red Boar  Tavern, the wall with six bricks missing, the second fork in the pockmarked street.  It would not be much longer until her nightmare would really be over.  She would be safe among her own. With a last surge of strength she pushed ahead. It was then that she saw
him
.  

He was too far away for her to see each and every detail of his features, but the way he walked, the way he held his head, all told her it was Garrick.   Desperately she glanced about her for a place to hide, ducking into the shadows of a nearby alleyway, pressing herself against the  butchershop wall.  What was he doing here?  Was he looking for her?  She froze, standing perfectly still, hardly daring to breath as she watched from her hiding place.  He was poised before a group of children, asking a lot of questions, rewarding the young ones with a handful of coins.  Dawn had thought herself safe in
Soho and yet
he
was here.  And he was walking in her direction.

She had to get away!  Once Dawn had associated Garrick Seton with roses and rainbows, now he reminded her of th
e tortured days aboard the prison ship.  Well, he wouldn't put her there again.  Damn him!  Picking up her skirts, Dawn headed in the opposite direction.

"You there!  Stop!  Please........"  To her mortification he sounded as
if he recognized her.

B
ounding over barrels, darting in and out between buildings, taking care not to slip on the ice of frozen puddles, she sought to put as great a distance as she could between them.  The devil himself couldn't have held more terror for her.  Garrick Seton had cruelly and callously sent her to prison and for that she could never forgive him.  Well, he wouldn't get a second chance to betray so cruelly again!

For the next hour she darted in and out of the shadows, stumbling
, then picking herself up, forcing herself to run on..  Her knees were scraped, her elbows bruised, the cobblestones had torn her already ragged skirt to shreds.  At last, when she could run no more, she found haven in the archway between two stone buildings.  A  lumpy pile of old rags served as her bed as she fell in an exhausted heap. Warily she looked around her, listening for any sounds of pursuit.  There were none.  For the moment, at least, she was safe.                            
             
             

Chapter Fifty One

Garrick ascended a dark flight of stairs, his impatience growing with each step he took.  This had to be the place young Robbie Leighton had told him about.  The  slant-roofed building with
scraps of brown paper and material stuffed into the broken window panes was the one the children had confirmed. Had he imagined it, or was it Dawn that had taken to her heels upon sight of him? He would soon find out.  Raising his fist, he knocked three times.

The door opened slowly to reveal a  girl with wide
hazel eyes.  "Wot yer want?"             

He stared at the thin, pale young woman in the doorway.  "Are you Taddie?" he asked.  The ques
tion brought fear to her eyes.

"I didn't do nothin', I di
dn't.  I'm a good girl, I am."

Obviously she was unnerved
to see a well-dressed stranger standing at her door.  Garrick hardly looked as if he came from Soho, in his dun-colored breeches, white shirt, and dark brown tailcoat.  "I'm sure that you are.  I'm not here to bring you any trouble."

A gleam of suspicion hardened her gaze.  "Then wha' are yer doin' 'ere
?"

"Some children in the neighborhood told me that you and a young woman named Dawn Leighton are friends.  I was hoping you might be able to help me locate her.  Please, it's most important."  Before she could stop him
, he took a step inside.  The room was filled with smoke that curled in the candlelight, making everything so indistinct that he could barely see the other inhabitants of the dwelling.

"I don't know 'er.  I  ain't never 'eard that naime afore.  No, indeed I ain't."  A stiff mask of impertinence crept over her face, daring him t
o say she was telling a lie. 

"Would it help to loosen your tongue were I
to say that I know otherwise."

"It might and then again it might not....
.." she answered cautiously.

"I've just come from a visit with Dawn's brother, Robbie.  I've secur
ed his release, as well as a retrial for Dawn, that is if she survived the Channel waters."  His expression was imploring.  "I've got to know!  Did she? I think she did.   I believe she is alive!  Just a few hours ago I saw a young woman who looked incredibly like her coming this way. When she saw me she ran."

"And why wouldn't she?  Eh?"  Jamie grumbled, coming up to stand behind Taddie at the door.  "B
lokes loike yer mean trouble."

"I've come to help her.  You must believe me."  He wondered how much they knew about Dawn's imprisonment.  "It was by a ghastly mistake  that she was accused in the first place.  An error for which I have  very dearly paid with every minute that passes by without her.  But I had nothing to d
o with it."  Leaning against the doorpost, Garrick related the story of Oliver's effort to reclaim his inheritance, his betrayal of Garrick's trust.  "She must think that it was I who sent her to that horrible place.  To the contrary, I've spent every minute of every day trying to get her free."

Taddie's expression softened.  "Somehow I believe yer.  There's somethin' in yer eyes that tells me yer ain't a bad bloke, but it won't do a bit o' good.  I 'aven't seen 'er since she came sweeping in 'er with presents and money for the lot o' us a while back.  Just loike a blo
omin' angel she was.  She's a dear one, she is.  But I 'aven't seen 'er.  Really."  Her voice lowered warningly.  "If I did  see 'er I'd 'ave a word o' warning, I would.  Black John Dunn escaped when the
Sea Raven's
prisoners mutinied.  'E 'as a memory loike an elephant, 'e does.  Comes bargin' in 'ere askin'  questions. Trying ter find 'er, 'e is.  For vengeance saike."

"Vengeance?"

"Seems a while back 'e and Robbie got it inter their 'eads to do a gent in.  Stole 'is watch and satchel, they did.  When 'e put up a fight it frightened ole Black John inter thinking 'e might cause trouble.  John 'ired a man who robs  graives  to rub the blighter out."

"Rub him out?  And...and did the man do the job
?"

"Naw.......    Dawnie overheard wot was bein' planned, returned to the warehouse where 'e was tied and set 'im free.  Later ole Johnnie was taiken ter Newgate.  'E blames 'er.   Now 'e's thundering about, saiyin' 'e'll be gettin' even wi' 'er.  Lookin'
all over the City, 'e is."

"Then there is another reason I desperately must find her.  Give me any hints as
to where she might have gone." Now Garrick's every sense was alive to the danger.  He knew he had to find her before Black John did.             

Chapter Fifty-Two

Snow
covered the ground like a blanket of white.  It was Christmas Eve, a time of celebration.  Dawn might have forgotten except for the carolers going "wassailing", walking in fours down the muddied cobbled streets, going from house to house.  Christmas Eve and she was all alone, afraid to seek Taddie, Jamie or the others out for fear of crossing paths with Garrick Seton again.  It was much too risky.  Better to be a little bit hungry and without company than to take the chance of imprisonment again.  Undoubtedly this time she'd end her days on the gallows for having been so brazen as to escape. The "steps and the string", the term her brother used. Over and over it echoed in her brain, urging her to caution.

T
here was an air of wistful solitude about the frozen streets, Dawn thought as she walked along.  Except for the wassailers she was one of the few making her way about.  The shops were shut, the vendors gone, the streets deserted.  All those with family, friends or a place to hang their hats had sought the comforts of a roaring fire, watching the flickering flames from the yule log that would burn steadily through the twelve days of Christmas.  Dawn paused to take a brief look into the windows of each dwelling she passed, remembering Christmases past.

"Help me hang the mistletoe, ivy and holly, Poppet.  It will bring us good luck throughout the following year,"  she remembered her father saying.  "What a feast we'll have.  Roast beef, stuffing, a bit of plum pudding.  Your mother is a marvelous cook and a
very beautiful woman......."

A bit of plum pudding
, Dawn thought.  Oh how good it would be to have even one taste of something good to eat.  With such hope in mind she tagged along with the carolers, singing a Christmas song that she remembered.  As she had hoped, she shared in their reward, a mug of hot spiced cider and a bit of Yorkshire pudding--batter baked in meat drippings.  It soothed her hunger and made her realize that at least at this time, Londoners were men and women of goodwill..

Just as in ancient times there would be meriment all over
England until the Twelfth Day, the sixth of January.  Twelve days of Christmas in all. When she was just a little girl, there had been a present for her on each  of those days and the same for Robbie.

Robbie. 
How she wished she could be with him. Where was he now? Was he safe?  Was he happy?  Was he remembering too?  When they were children they had played a Christmas game called "king of the bean", in which a bean was hidden in a cake or loaf and the person who found it became king of the feast.  Oh, how angry Robbie had been when she had been accorded that honor again and again.  The memory made her smile. Christmas always brought family to mind.

The narrow streets and alleyways were festive, made beautiful with colored paper and ribbons.  Twinkling candles in doors and window sills lit up the night.  Children, their faces bright with anticipation, rivaled the candles in briliance.  Somehow their joy was in
fectious, making Dawn forget her sadness for the moment.  When she thought about it, she realized she had much to be thankful for. She was free to roam about, she had her health, and she’d found an old abandoned wine cellar that gave her shelter from the cold.  Picking up a stick of old wood, she decided it would be perfect for her own yule log.  With that thought in mind, she retraced her steps and headed to her makeshift home, humming the refrain of a carol.

The night air
chilled her face and Dawn tugged her torn shawl around her slim body.  Oh yes, a fire would be ever so pleasant.  Taking a turn into the alleyway, she was startled when a silhouetted form stepped forward to block her way. "Excuse me," she said politely.

"Watch that yer don't get in people's waiy...." a voice answered.  The man held a thick cigar between his teeth.  As he reached up to light it with a match
, his face was illuminated.  It was Black John Dunn!  At the same moment, he recognized her. "Dawnie! 'Ow nice ter see old chums."

"Yes.  Pleasant.
” Dear God, of all people she had hoped never to see again! Picking up her skirts, she tried to act as if nothing was wrong. “Have a prosperous Christmas, John.”

“Now, not so hasty, wench!” when she moved to the left, he did so too; when she moved to the right, he mimicked her, putting himself in her path.

“I must be going. I’m already late. I will be missed,” she bluffed, turning her back and walking  quickly away.

"If yer know wot's good fer ye, ye'll 'igh taile it back 'ere, yer will.  Little Miss "Snitch"!"
John’s voice thundered in the silence of the night.

"I never told on you, John.
” Dawn said evenly. “But I did keep you from killing a man who had done you no wrong and for that I'm not sorry."

His g
rowl was that of a wild beast. "Yer 'ad ter free the bleedin' toff against me orders.  Well, yer conscience cost me precious days o' me life, dear girl.  Now yer goin' ter paiy....."  He shook his fist at her.

She spun to face him."I'm not afraid of you
, Black John," she said, but she was.  Terrifyingly so.   There was a savage fury etched on his face that warned her he meant her serious harm.   His face was pale, there were hollows beneath his eyes that proved his life in prison had taken its toll.  A muscle twitched in his face, a nervous tick he'd never had before.

Knowing she had to escape him, she took to her heels.

Breaking into a run, he caught up with her. With talon-like fingers he caught her shoulders and gave her a vicious shake.  "Not afraid o' me?  Yer should be.  Yer don't know 'ow long I've wanted ter wring yer scrawny neck." 

She tried to pull away, but his fingers only dug deeper into her flesh. “Leave me be. I’m warning you…” she gasped, feigning bravado.

In answer, he dragged her over the broken cobblestones with menacing purpose. "Yer peached on me, Dawnie and for that yer will paiy.  No one wot does Black John Dunn in doesn't get ‘is due."He jerked her arm viciously, dragging her into the darkness.

“Get your bleedin’ hands off me!” Desperation tinged with anger made her act instinctively. Doubling up her fist, she swung at his jaw. A loud grunt proved she’d caused him pain, but instead of cowing him it only made him angrier. Black John rubbed at his jaw for a moment or two, then with a blow that took her completely by surprise, caught her on the face with his open palm. The blow momentarily stunned her.

"If yer loikes it rough, I can give yer blow fer blow......"  Like a tomcat stalking a mouse, he moved stealthfully forward, taking a step at a time in slow pantomime.

Dawn shook her head to clear  her ears of their ringing.  She
knew she had to get away. Black John would kill her. Frantically her eyes darted from side to side, seeking a route of escape, but found none.

"Oh, no!  Now that I 'ave yer cornered ye won't be gettin' awaiy
.” Once again he reached out to seize her, his hands grabbing her arms and pinioning them behind her back.  Agonizing pain tore through her body as he pulled tighter and tighter.  Dawn screamed, certain he was going to pull her arms from their sockets.  His knee slammed into her back.  "Another peep from ye and I'll snap yer loike a lobster, I will."  John's weasel eyes glittered maliciously at her.

Dawn struggled to get free
, but he hurled his bulky weight against her pinning her to the ground.  His hands were bruising as he clutched at her throat, squeezing until she couldn't breathe. Dawn pressed her eyes shut so she wouldn't have to see his leering face. She tried to keep her mind clear, to focus through her pain, but all she could concentrate on were the hands around her neck.  He was going to kill her and there was nothing she could do.  And all the while his harsh laughter rang in her ears.  The laughter of the devil himself.

Dawn imagined she heard footsteps. A dark figure hurtled through the air like a demon.  She felt Black John's weight lessen as he was  pulled away.  She tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness
, but all she could see was the outline of powerful shoulders tapering down into lean hips.  The man was much taller than Black John, more agile, fighting with an intensity that could not be matched. Raising up on her elbow she tried to regain the strength her tussle with Black John had drained.

Rage exploded before Garrick’s eyes. Striking out with his fist, he caught the black-bearded thief on the chin. Black John staggered back but did not fall. He maintained his balance, whipping a knife out of his boot and holding it out threateningly. “Come on! I’ll cut out yer ‘eart and eat it for tomorrow’s
breakfast.”

Garrick was unarmed, but he remembered a trick he had learned while serving aboard ship.  Taking off his coat, he wound it around his arm, using it as a shield against his opponents slashing weapon.  Sidestepping Black John again and again,  he waited for a chance to turn the other man's anger against him and was rewarded to hear the knife clatter to the ground as he snapped his coat at his a
dversary's wrist.

Remembering his boxing training, Garrick controlled his breathing and clenched his hands into tight fists. Moving his hands in circular motions
, he jabbed out again and again.   He sized up his opponent and found him to be a man quick to blind surges of temper. That would work against his adversary.

Overconfidence made Black John careless. Like a conrnerd,
enraged bull he struck out blindly again and again, missing his target. Eyeing the knife which lay on the cobbled stones, he inched his way back, but Garrick sensed his intentions and blocked his path.  They fell to the ground, rolling over and over as they fought with deadly determination to grasp the weapon.  Black John reached out and grasped the handle, holding it between their bodies menacingly, trying furiously to position it so that it could do its lethal work. But Garrick, was driven by an even greater fury than Black John could imagine.  He was fighting not only for himself but for the woman he loved.  The thought of protecting her  gave him added strength.  Slowly, surely, he forced the knife from the other man's fingers.  Then with a final well-aimed blow, knocked Black John unconscious.

Then he was leaning over Dawn
, his all to familiar face face looming before her eyes.  The sight was all too familiar, filling Dawn not with gratitude but with fear.  "It's
you
!  No!  Please.....  I won't go back to Newgate.  I'll die first....."

"Go back to Newgate?
” Her words struck him like a blow.  “It is the last place you will go.  You're safe now, Dawn my love." He touched her neck, his fingers hauntingly tender. "Let me make certain he hasn't harmed you."  Gently he moved his hands over her face and body, then slipped a hand around her waist, helping her to her feet.             

Dawn my love?  Was that what he had said
?  Dawn eyed him warily, wondering what game he was playing now.  "Safe.....?" she asked despairingly.  "You turned me in once. You betrayed me in a manner that is unforgivable. I can only fear that you might again....."  She leveled a cold stare at him.  "Leave me alone.  For the love of God, you've done enough.”               

He held her at arm’s length, looking deep into her eyes.
"On my word I did not turn you in.  I love you, Dawn.  I might have been a stubborn ass,  but I would never be so cruel.  I made the dastardly mistake of telling Oliver about your past, and it was he, not I who summoned the runners.  He wanted to claim his inheritance, but now the estate will be yours again, as Oliver’s aunt intended.”

She shook her head violently.  “I don’t want it!”

He was incredulous. “You can’t mean that…..”

“I do.
I don’t want to be part of your world any more.” She held her chin up. “I can do well on my own.”

Something in her tone of voice and the tragic emptiness in her eyes told him that in her mind she thought that she could do well without
him
also. It was a devastating thought that wounded him to the core.

“I’m sorry for some of the ugly things I said….for not believing in you.  I have looked inside my soul these past days and didn’t like what I saw. But before you pass judgment on me please listen.”

Something in his eyes started to thaw the ice in her heart.  She nodded.  “All right.”

Choosing his words with care, he told her the whole story.
"If you want to hold me to account, let it be for not realizing that you were the most precious gift I have ever been given. I want to marry you if you will have me."

“No…..” Her eyes filled with tears.”

He had feared that she might reject him.  Could he blame her? “Please…”  Though he was a proud man he got down on bended knee.  “Marry me, Dawn. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

"Marry you.....?"  It was the last thing she had ever
expected to hear from Garrick.

For the moment the unconscious form of Black John was forgotten as they stared
silently at each other.  Dawn swallowed with difficulty, not certain what to say.  Once she had wanted to marry him so much, and yet now she somehow could not get the words past her lips, words that would tell him she still loved him. Time. Perhaps she needed time. There were so many painful memories

Misunderstanding her silence, Garrick looked at her with consternation.  Didn't she believe him?  Couldn't she find it in her heart to forgive him for not coming to her sooner?
Could he really ever forgive himself? “I love you.” It was all he could say.  But he could prove his love for her.